


Domestic

by apple_pi



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-24
Updated: 2005-03-24
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7422130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"For Chrissakes, Dominic, <i>every</i> f-cking time…" His voice trailed off and he pulled the pillow off Dom's head. Dom's response (wild flailing, one arm connecting with Billy's kneecap, and mumbled obscenities as he yanked the duvet up and over his head) was less than promising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestic

"Get up." 

"Nn." Dom pushed his head further under the pillow and Billy glared down at him.

"For Chrissakes, Dominic, _every_ fucking time…" His voice trailed off and he pulled the pillow off Dom's head. Dom's response (wild flailing, one arm connecting with Billy's kneecap, and mumbled obscenities as he yanked the duvet up and over his head) was less than promising.

Billy fumed, planting his hands on his hips, and launched into a refrain that was as familiar to Dom as it was to him. "Every fucking time, Dominic. You got up for Feet every fucking morning at four-thirty for _two years_. You aren't late to premieres, parties, publicity shite, parades, auditions - unless it's fashionable to be so. But I ask _one_ little thing of you, one fucking weekend morning where you _actually_ haul your lazy, hungover, hedonistic, selfish, shiftless, slug-like bloody arse out of bed before _three_ in the fucking after _noon_ -"

"'M not hungover."

"God _damn_ it, Dom." Billy heard the whine in his own voice and stopped, appalled. My god. He sounded like a bloody housewife. Next thing he'd be telling Dom it was his turn to take the kiddies to McDonald's, and do pick up the dry-cleaning while you're out.

He was standing still, eyes bugged out and staring at the plaid duvet without registering it, when Dom slid his hand out from under the covers and waved it aimlessly around for a moment before making contact with Billy's knee, which he patted lightly. "Don' be mad, Bills. 'S not even noon. Just gimme a while, a'right?"

Billy sagged down to slump on the edge of the mattress. Dom's hand was dislodged but unquenched; Billy barely felt it slide onto his thigh as he sank his head into his hands. "Take all the time you want, Dommie," he muttered, rubbing the heels of his hand into his eye sockets.

"Mmm. 'Kay. Not too much longer. Promise." Dom left his hand on Billy's leg.

Were they becoming… Billy relaxed a little, gazed at the carpet between his feet… domestic? Nothing really wrong with that, he supposed. Some of it, anyhow. Good meals - he was more than happy to let Dom cook while he took care of the clean-up. Cleaning the bathroom and kitchen regularly - another good thing, and he had always been devoutly thankful that he and Dom did not have dirty-versus-clean conflicts - they could both stand roughly the same amount of clutter and filth for roughly the same amount of time. 

But this. The familiarity of this argument - Billy being more of a morning person than Dom - was frankly scary. Perfunctory kisses. Whole evenings with four words between them… Nice words, generally. Pleasant, courteous words. But. Ugh. 

Billy shuddered.

Dom's hand moved, rubbed his bare thigh gently. "You should come under here," he said muzzily. "'S warm and nice. Could be nicer."

Billy looked at his mate's hand. Sighed. Stood up and silently began to strip - t-shirt, flip-flops, shorts, pants.

"Aww, Bills, don’t be mad," Dom said. His hand lay limp atop the mattress, dejected. God, Dom was expressive even with three out of four limbs, his torso, and his head completely submerged in fluffy 100-percent hypoallergenic poly-linen bedcovers.

Billy pushed the sad hand aside and lifted the covers, leaning down to peer at Dom, who squinted at him hopefully and made no move to… well… move.

"I'm not mad." Billy gave him a quiet little blink. "'M coming in. Scootch over."

Dom smiled at that, a full-happy stretch of his lips across his shadowy face, and wriggled his whole body as Billy slipped beneath the duvet to join him. As Billy settled he felt long, strong arms and legs wrapping around him like seaweed, and he sighed again. Dom's head pushed into his neck; Billy whuffled and blew until the straight silky hair was no longer in his nose, then tried to relax into the embrace.

"See?" Dom's voice was a blurry purr against his collarbone. "Nice."

"And warm," Billy said, closing his eyes and feeling his breath pool in a little tropical zone over his face.

Dom squeezed him and began to rub little circles on his hipbone. "Mmm-hmm." Billy rested, willing his body to catch up to his brain and stop vibrating like a guitar-string.

"G sharp," Dom said, being telepathic, and Billy began to giggle helplessly, suddenly, giggles squirting from his nose and mouth, splashing on the underside of the duvet, dribbling down his face and collecting under his chin, where Dom opened his mouth in a happy, grinning yawn and ate them up whole.

"The happiest of all keys," Billy gasped, and rolled over on top of Dom. Dom, who was also naked. Dom, whose mouth tasted like sleep and laziness and love.


End file.
